Page 12 of Enduring Caine
Leonardo muttered, “How very American.”
“I think it’s cool,” said Cesca. “I want to visit America and meet my Aunt Valentina and Uncle Dom. Antonio’s the only one of my cousins I’ve ever met!”
Over Christmas, I witnessed some of the bitterness remaining between Dom and this brother. It was easy to be angry with Gio for what he did for a living, but Cesca was an innocent victim in all of it, denied a connection she longed for.
A man with warm beige skin and light brown hair entered through the open doors behind Cristian, pushing a serving cart. He wore a white chef’s jacket and busied himself with clearing our bowls.
I’d counted at least two dozen inhabitants of Giovanni’s estate, between family, bodyguards, and other staff like the chef. Elliot said the TPC had someone inside, so one of them was an undercover agent. The question was, who? Not Giovanni, obviously, nor Cristian, Cesca, nor Leonardo. Everyone else was a candidate.
But no snooping, right?
“Speaking of cousins…” Antonio handed his bowl to the man, continuing to speak to Cesca. “Where are your mother and sister?”
Giovanni answered for her. “They went to Paris for New Year’s, to a spa and to do some shopping.”
Cesca made a vomiting face at me. “They asked me to go with them, but there was no way.”
“You don’t enjoy spas?” I asked. A girl after my own heart.
“I wanted to see Antonio again! It’s been so long, I barely remembered him.”
Antonio’s eyebrow cocked and I shifted my foot to tap his. That answered the question—this visit was planned in advance and the delay at the airportwaswhat Elliot had heard about.
Leonardo clasped his hands together, focusing on Antonio. “And what do you think, Cesca? Is your American cousin all you hoped for?”
A darkness crossed Antonio’s features as his eyes slowly traveled to Leonardo. The bodyguard had barely spoken since we met him. Antonio didn’t answer, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them.
Cesca’s eyes fell to her empty place setting.
There was history between these men. But what? Had Leonardo been here when Antonio was working for his uncle? And what about Antonio’s aunt and other cousin? Why hadn’t they stayed? Was there bad blood since Antonio left the first time?
Gio cleared his throat. “What do you have next, Henri?”
“Pistachio-crusted salmon with a light salad of arugula and beets.” The server, with a French accent, collected Cristian’s dishes last and smiled at his boss, who nodded.
Once Henri left, Gio looked at me. “Our chef joined us last year. I’m sure you’ll agree he’s wonderful?”
“The food is quite good, thank you.”
“So tell me more about this job, Samantha,” said Giovanni. “You told us you live in the camper because you’re an insurance adjuster? Is this common in America?”
“For some types of adjusters, yes. I travel a lot.”
“That must make your relationship difficult.”
I turned to Antonio, who smiled at me. “I should say I used to travel a lot.”
Antonio sat to my left, an unfortunate direction, since his injured arm faced me. It twitched, as though he was instinctively reaching for me. He gritted his teeth, the smile faltering for a moment. “Her boss offered her a permanent position in Brenton.”
My turn for my smile to falter. A week ago, I’d been offered a job with the Special Investigations Unit at the insurance company and was supposed to be mulling it over. My boss—who was also my ex-husband—had told me the company might fold if I didn’t take over the role. It was a tremendous weight placed on my shoulders, but one I’d barely thought about since New Year’s. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You’ll do well no matter what you decide, bella.” Antonio winked at me. “You’re too clever to do anything but succeed.”
“Speaking of clever…” Leonardo took a sip of the dry red wine we’d all been served. “I understand you’re also an investigator, Samantha?”
Undercover 101: The fewer lies you tell, the fewer you risk being exposed over. “That’s a core part of being an adjuster. Sometimes you have to dig a little deeper to be sure the person identifies the right losses.”
Leonardo scrutinized me, not appearing to be satisfied with that answer. “And what about this auction a few months ago? And the items that were stolen from Pompeii when Antonio arrived? Neither of these are insurance—”